Too much going going going and doing doing doing left me feeling sad, depleted, and exhausted. At 3:30 in the afternoon, I crawled under the safety of the covers, willing the softness of the blankets to work their magic on my frantic mind and sore body.

And, here’s the thing…it took me getting to that point to learn a big lesson. Sometime, we have to give ourselves permission to “not.”

To not do anything, say anything, be anywhere. To not have to engage, or work, or whatever it is that keeps our minds and bodies teetering on the consistent edges of exhaustion. We live in a world that demands constant connection and fast responses. How many of us have sent a text and then tapped our foot impatiently as the seconds and minutes roll by in anticipation of a text back. These responses we wait for have somehow become affirmation of our existence on this planet…the yes, we are here, and yes, we do matter. Do they “like” me, do they “see” me, am I “good enough,” and is what I am saying “worthy?”

Rather than holding our own existence gently in our core being, we farm it out – on social media, in our interactions with people, in the the things we purchase, and in the spaces we work. We are beholden to being there, doing that, meeting this person, showing up here and there and everywhere despite the call of our souls to come back home. Not home in the physical four walls sense, but home in the space that resides in the stillness and quiet deep within. That space I needed to reconnect to under the covers last Friday.

Not doing can feel (and has been labelled) lazy. Not doing conjures up this idea that we are missing out somehow. Not doing suggests an unwillingness to participate – and that, in our society, is just not acceptable. When we give ourselves permission to “not,” we are in fact doing one of the most important things for ourselves…we are giving ourselves a chance to rest, restore, reconnect, rewire. We are giving ourselves a moment to take a deep breath and feel those things that haven’t had a chance to be felt. We are allowing space for processing and integration.

That’s why the practices of restorative yoga and poses like savasana are so important. They give our bodies a moment to recalibrate, to absorb, to surrender, to let go. Meditation itself is the practice of finding stillness and “not.” Not overthinking, not judging, not moving. These are practices that ask us to come home again and again, to recognize when we want to distract in order to avoid, and to experience the feeling of “not” – even for just a brief second.

There is a sweetness and power in giving permission to “not.” A care and respect for body, soul, and mind. A practice we should be undertaking much more often.

I was having coffee with an acquaintance of mine recently and I was commenting that since moving to our new city, I haven’t been connecting to any kind of community here (mainly due to the fact that I haven’t had my feet on the ground here long enough!). I noted that it seems to get harder as we get older, especially for those of us living more nomadic forms of existence on this planet.

It can be challenging to make a true connection with someone, especially when you are new to an area. For a while, I was finding the 30-second conversations with the barista at my local coffee shop on the corner to be the most engaging part of my day!

That being said, efforts must be made to connect, because we as humans are designed to connect to one another. Our bodies crave conversation, support, and laughter. Even for those of us who are the most introverted need a little face time every now and then to feel that sense of belonging to something bigger. Ever wonder why acro-yoga is just so. much. FUN?

And, that’s why I love yoga communities.

When we live yoga, we find community and connection everywhere. We feel it, whether it is connecting to a post or picture online, walking into a studio for a class, or attending a workshop or festival. We feel it when we make eye contact with others on the street or when we make eye contact with ourselves in the mirror in the morning. We feel it when we take time to really listen to our loved ones and when we tell others our story.

Our community is within us and outside of us. It is everywhere – this energetic fabric that ensures we are never alone and that we always have a space where we belong.

Yoga has shown up for me in some random ways since the beginning of the year…it IS the 30-second conversation with my barista and the way the little birds gather together in community in the tree out front of our building. It is being invited to a friend’s house for a meal and conversation just as much as it is when I work from home and update social media. It is the walks I take in our neighbourhood to absorb nature and the walks through our market to pick out produce. Our yoga community is in all of these wonderful and unexpected places.

We just have to remember to look for it and know that we are an integral piece of our community.

Speaking of community…

Join me on the mat Tuesdays and Thursdays at the Dragon Arts Collective, a community of healers, teachers, and all-around awesome human beings who are trying to make the world a better place! My classes here are donation based. For more information, click here!

I’ll also be joining the yoga community at the upcoming Prairie Love Yoga Festival in September! I’ll be talking about yoga and social activism while connecting with you on the mat! For more details and to register, click here!

I am currently transfixed by the Yamas. Five “ethical standards” through which we can live our lives in better and more fulfilling ways. By realizing these Yamas, we have the ability to treat ourselves and others with the respect we all deserve, and subsequently prepare ourselves for our Asana practice on the mat.

The first Yama is Ahisma. Ahisma, very simply translated, means “nonviolence.” Now, not only does this mean nonviolence toward other living, sentient beings. In my mind, it also means nonviolence towards oneself. All these posts about “loving yourself” are attempting to get at just that.

Think about friends or family who have gone through difficult times in their lives. Oftentimes, I hear people struggle through challenging moments in their lives by engaging in negative self-talk. Talk that situates blame for being in the current position squarely on the shoulders of the person doing the talking. I find that in these challenging moments, it is of the utmost importance to practice the greatest and most fierce acts of self-love in order to fully express what we need and when we need it. If you are struggling and feeling alone and a hug from someone would make you feel better, is it not easier to ask for the hug rather than berate yourself for needing that hug in the first place? I think so!

Ahisma is not just negative self-talk. It can also mean engaging in negative behaviours we use to compensate for the negativity we are feeling inside. By not treating ourselves with love mentally, physically and emotionally, we are not setting ourselves up to better serve others mentally, physically and emotionally. Not only that, by neglecting or punishing ourselves, we prohibit our abilities to practice Ahisma to others in our lives.

How do you practice Ahisma when it comes to yourself? To others? How do you connect this Yama to your practice on the mat?

“Undisturbed calmness of mind is attained by cultivating friendliness toward the happy, compassion for the unhappy, delight in the virtuous, and indifference toward the wicked.” Yoga Sutras of Patanjali

On Sundays, my yoga studio offers no classes, so I found myself “taking class” with Darren Rhodes this past weekend via YogaGlo. He opened the class by talking about how one can sometimes find themselves bored with a sequence or posture after doing it over and over again…especially after many years of engaging in the asana practice. To counter that, he suggests, one should approach each pose – especially the “boring” ones – as though it is the first time they are ever encountering it to assess what changes and what new things are learned.

I tried this technique when approaching Tadasana (Mountain Pose) in my classes yesterday. It was invigorating. I felt my feet grounded like never before, my chest contained and my core engaged. I reached to the sky with newfound introspection and admiration for this stabilizing and central posture that is so integral to the asana practice. I could feel my roots connecting to the earth and discovered myself thinking about my relationships to my ancestors and the environment around me each time I stood at the top of my mat.

What are those poses you wish to rediscover? What new approaches have you been taking in your practice to keep it fresh and invigorating?